


Shooting Stars and Satellites

by quailsareneat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 23:23:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3707311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quailsareneat/pseuds/quailsareneat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"do they collide?" i ask, and you smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shooting Stars and Satellites

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the song passenger seat by death cab for cutie  
> im gay wolfstar trash

Remus shifts in the seat, trying to make the seatbelt lay more comfortably across his hips. Outside his window, he can see the moon, appearing to be following them at a steady pace; its edges are a little hazy, a not-quite circle. In a few days it’ll be full again.

In the driver’s seat, Sirius takes his eyes off the road for a second to glance at Remus. He wants to let go of the wheel -- they’re going down a straight road, deserted at two in the morning, there’s no harm -- but he knows better than to put Remus on edge when the moon is this close. He settles for turning up the radio instead, drumming on the wheel.

“D’you mind if I put the window down?” Sirius asks.

“A bit,” Remus says, watching Sirius start rolling it down before the words are out of his mouth. The night air rushes in; it whips through Sirius’ long hair, plays across Remus’ face; he can’t hear the radio over the wind. Leaning back in his seat, Remus idly watches the stars through the window. The drive feels longer than usual. An airplane blinks miles above them, lost in the universe, and he’s glad to be solidly on the ground.

The two of them, who have both known astronomy like the back of their hands since they were young -- albeit for very different reasons -- don’t discuss the stars. For Remus, it wasn’t the allure or mystery of the unknown. There are things you don’t question when the lunar cycle dictates your life. And so he studied, learning how to survive, how to read the slightest change in the skies, determined to become a monster only in form.

Sirius, however, was taught before he could read; his namesake had no bearing. Nobility was expected to be learned and he was no exception. Black holes, supernovas, solar flares -- he turned his textbooks into adventures, he the brave space explorer who would find his fortune among the stars. But his tutors quashed that behaviour along with the enjoyment of the subject, and he found his interests growing closer to home. Much closer, he thinks, not looking at the passenger side this time.

“It was nice of James’ parents to lend us the car,” Remus says. Sirius has to fiddle with the radio to hear him, and he repeats himself.

“Oh, yeah,” Sirius replies. “Gotta get you home somehow, right?”

“I’d take anything over that motorbike of yours,” Remus says wryly.

“You know they’d have let you stay longer.”

“And _you_ know that’s not an option, Sirius.” Remus had learned long ago that his months consist of three weeks, would only ever be three weeks, the other fading into silence and secrecy. Did he think the Potters would be willing to have him during the full moon? Of course.

Did he think he could live with himself?

Well. That’s another matter.

It isn’t until the moon stops following him in the window that he realizes they’ve pulled to a stop at the side of the empty road.

“What is it? Something wrong with the car?” Remus asks, worried. He doesn’t know a thing about fixing them by hand, and they’re both underage, so magical fixes are out of the question. Are they stuck here? He doesn’t want to think about it.

“No,” Sirius says shortly. He pauses. “Something wrong with _you_.”

Remus stares across the console, nonplussed. He watches Sirius unclick his belt, open the door, and walk around to sit on the hood of the car. A second later a trail of smoke unfurls from Sirius’ mouth.

Hesitantly, Remus undoes his belt and follows Sirius. He stands on his left, avoiding the smoke, trying to gauge the atmosphere. Clearly, he’s said something that would lead to them standing in silence at the side of the road in the middle of the night. Clearly, Sirius is mad. Clearly, Remus has no idea.

Sirius finishes his cigarette and stubs it out, then immediately lights another. The flame illuminates his face; shadowy, looking much older than 16 in the flickering light.

“It’s just, y’know -- Shit, Moony, why do you always act like you’re some -- some huge burden, or something?” Sirius finally says. Their eyes meet for the first time since Remus stepped out of the car. Sirius’ are pitch black in the night, eyebrows furrowed with frustration.

“What?”

“You always distance yourself, like you’re doing us a favour by not being around,” Sirius says. “As if we don’t know how much better it is for you when we’re there during -- you know.”

“It’s different, Sirius. I can’t expect his parents to put up with me, I don’t want them to have the responsibility --”

“So you’re just going to run to your place and lock yourself up and be miserable, is that it?” Sirius snorts humourlessly and Remus doesn’t answer. “See? You think of yourself as a ‘responsibility’. We think of you as a friend. It’s what people do when they care about each other.”

He knocks the ash off the end of the cigarette and takes another drag, seeming not to mind Remus’ silence. He’s had his say; Remus knows how Sirius works, knows it’s on him now to work this out.

“Alright,” Remus says.

“Don’t you ‘alright’ m-- wait, what?” Sirius says, confused.

“I said alright. You’re right. I focus too much on the fact that, once a month, I transform into a monster that doesn’t understand mercy, and how easily I could hurt someone, and how the obvious course of action should be to keep myself around those I love most, clearly.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Sirius starts, firing up again, and even in the low light Remus can see him rolling his eyes. “Listen, we could all have ditched you when we found out, but instead we learned to turn into animals, even Peter, who’s scared of his own shadow but chooses to romp around with a werewolf every month anyway. I thought you were the smart one, Moony, can’t you figure it out?”

Remus splutters, lost for words. Is he supposed to give the right answer, or is he supposed to say what he feels? But Sirius doesn’t give him time to speak.

“Why do you think I offered to drive you back? Why do you think I tried to get you to stay in the first place?” Sirius stamps out the second cigarette butt and takes a step toward Remus. “What do you think I’m trying to get you to understand in the middle of bloody nowhere in the middle of the night?”

There’s a hard, blazing look in Sirius’ eyes that Remus is used to seeing after a Quidditch game -- a look that says he’s won, that he’s getting something he wants. It’s a determination so complete that Remus knows he won’t get in the way of it.

“So what you’re saying is that I’m your burden,” he says quietly, and Sirius barely has time to boggle and get out half of a barking laugh before Remus is there, pressing his lips against Sirius’, the gravel of the side of the road crunching beneath their feet.

It seems a long time passes before they break apart; the night presses darker around them, but Sirius’ eyes twinkle like stars.

“I guess that’s one way to put it,” he says, grinning, and leans in again.


End file.
